


Hunger of the Pine

by cobalamincosel



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - After College/University, Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Chicago (City), Friends With Benefits, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Semi-Public Sex, Slow Burn, Weddings, day 3: distance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-07 16:33:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18876970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cobalamincosel/pseuds/cobalamincosel
Summary: Kun and Ten are ex-college friends-with-benefits who end up becoming so much more when they bump into each other again at the airport after a few years for the wedding of their respective college roommates and best friends, Johnny and Taeyong.





	Hunger of the Pine

**Author's Note:**

> God, honestly this started as an untweeted draft that I had found until I ended up tweeting it and then... it kind of just spiraled over the course of the week. [This](https://www.twitter.com/johnnyseo_paws/status/1128343892636475392) is the longest tweet thread I've done ever. 
> 
> Special thanks to Gaia, Natasha, Sophie, Bella, Ditto, Ming, Em, Amel, and everyone else who stuck with this until the very end and would sometimes give me ideas for how to proceed with the story. 
> 
> Special thanks to that anon who suggested I give Kun a little POV. 
> 
> Special thanks to Jen for letting me use her museum rant for Kun's.
> 
> And of course, Klo, the North Star in my life.
> 
> UPDATE: This now has gorgeous [FANART](https://twitter.com/n_ikuman/status/1130166454165430272?s=21) (CAN U BELIEVE?????) done by the absolutely wonderful Jiani ♥️♥️♥️♥️

“I still remember the way you taste,” should definitely not be the way first thought that Ten has when he sees the man that is standing in line a few people ahead of him at check-in, but there it is.

He wasn’t sure it was Kun. He really, really wasn’t, until he heard his voice.

Ten sort of feels like equal parts jello and putty. He hasn’t seen or talked to Kun in years. _Years._ And one “ah, let me take some stuff out” from Kun’s mouth that carries over from the counter to Ten’s ears has him remembering heavy breathing on a dorm room bed. He’s fucked.

Ten had known of course that he was going to see Kun again. Ten was Johnny’s best man, and he had told Ten fairly early on that Kun was going to be on the entourage, but he’d be skipping out on a lot the planning because he was the busiest out of all of them. And the thing is, Ten had been peachy! He’d been fine with the knowledge that his friend and one-time fuck buddy from college was going to be there. He hasn’t been carrying a torch for Kun this whole time. It’s just that he never expected his body to react the way that it is now.

He doesn’t realize he’s zoned out until someone nudges him from behind to tell him to move, and by then, Kun has gone from his sight. He lets out a breath didn’t know he was holding and moves forward to hand his passport over to the attendant.

God, he better get a good seat.

Ten hates airports for the express reason that he has to go through like, twelve checkpoints and body searches and scans. And also because he can never dress the way he wants to comfortably since they always make him take his belt and his shoes off. He hates that part the most. His gate is about a 10 minute walk from the last full body groping he has to put up with until they land in Chicago, and he contemplates maybe killing time at some massage kiosk when he gets there, until he hears someone shout “Ten!” and— God help him, Kun is there, waving at him.

It’s fine! This is fine, he tells himself. They’re friends, or at least they used to be. They used to laugh a lot, and all the mind-blowing sex aside, Ten had really enjoyed his company.

It’s just that the sex really had been mind-blowing, and Ten’s nerves are suddenly on edge.

 

-

 

[They’re sitting in Johnny’s dorm room when Kun first brings it up, sloshed on a little too much tequila and full from a little too much pizza.

“Hey Ten, you know how we keep complaining about being sexiled?” Kun giggles. “What if we got back at them?”

Ten full belly-laughs.

“What do you mean?” Ten asks when he’s calmed down a bit, drinking some water from the jug on the desk.

“I mean like, we could mess around, too,” Kun says, nonchalantly, like it’s nothing.

Ten sits up. It’s... tempting.

“I don’t do relationships, Qian,” Ten says.

“Same.”]

 

-

 

Ten hitches his backpack’s strap more securely over his shoulder and makes his way over. He doesn’t understand why he’s nervous all of a sudden. It isn’t like he and Kun had parted on bad terms, not at all. Kun had graduated. Ten had been there. It had been all good.

Kun still has his backpack on, like he’s just settled in his seat. Ten drops his own bag on the floor, and says, “Hey, Qian,” and Kun’s smile is fucking blinding.

Kun comes in for a hug— natural, self-assured, a practiced thing as if they don’t have years of missing history.

“You never did stop calling me that even if I asked you like, five times not to,” Kun says, laughing. He adjusts his phone and passport in his hand.

Ten fires back with, “When did I ever tell do anything you wanted me to do?” without stopping for a second to think about his words.

“Well—“ Kun replies, lightning speed, and Ten’s entire face catches fire, hand flying to cover Kun’s mouth, all but shouting “shut up shut up shut up!” when Kun starts laughing, the sound muffled by Ten.

“Oh my god, you’re insufferable!” Ten hisses, ears tipped red.

 

-

 

[Ten is face down, ass up on Kun’s bed, mouth absolutely incapable of forming any words beyond “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” as Kun rams into him, his cock balls-deep.

“Tennie,” Kun grunts. “Ten, you need to shut up.”

He punctuates this with a particularly vicious thrust which of course makes Ten cry out.

“Ten,” Kun says, pulling out. “I’m serious, you’re gonna get us in trouble for disruption of peace or something.”

Ten pulls one of the pillows from the head of the bed and bites down on it.

Kun slides back in, takes Ten’s length in his hand, and when Ten comes on his sheets, there’s barely a sound.]

 

-

 

Kun gently pulls Ten’s hand away from his mouth, and Ten sits there, blushing furiously from head to toe, his mouth agape.

“I haven’t seen or talked to you in years and you open up with that?” Ten asks, incredulous. He can’t help the laugh that escapes his mouth.

“I don’t get why you’re being so shy about it,” Kun says matter-of-factly and Ten can’t believe it. Kun feels like they’ve been talking this whole time. He feels like mornings spent by an open window listening to Alt-J and DEAN.

He really is so fucked, and it’s only been 5 minutes.

They’ve got two hours till boarding, and it really shouldn’t be surprising to Ten just how quickly they fall back into the pattern that built the foundation of their friendship in the first place. They talk about Ten’s art and his dance; they talk about Kun’s research. It’s nice.

(Ten is working very hard not to think about how much cuter Kun has gotten in the last couple of years. He tries not to think about the stretch of the cloth over Kun’s bicep when he hauls his backpack away from behind him. Definitely doesn’t think about the curve of his lips.)

The conversation naturally goes back to their days at uni, and more than once, Kun makes another cheeky little quip about them messing around. Ten relearns the art of their banter. He doesn’t realize how much he’s missed Kun until that moment.

They end up with their backpacks back on, and they move to a Duty-free because Kun realizes that he’s forgotten his electric shaver at home in the middle of Ten telling him about this one guy he had dated who used his own for both his face and his pubes. Kun was apoplectic.

They’re not seated together. Kun is seated five rows ahead of him, at a window seat with all that leg room. Ten’s stuck in the middle aisle, in a middle seat, between some white couple to his left and an aged Japanese lady to his right. He wants to die.

He also has a chance to catch his breath, to make sense of his emotions that are kind of up in the air, pun intended, while he plugs in his headset and attempts to find something good to watch on the screen in front of him.

The inflight WiFi sucks, but he's paid for it, and he messages Johnny anyway.

 

**[John 🐱10:34 am:]**

Hey Tennie, for real?? Was it okay? Were you awkward? Fuck sorry, I had no idea he was gonna be on the same flight 

 

**[Ten 10:35 am:]**

No, it’s chill. It was nice. He’s seated like, five rows ahead of me. I wasn’t awkward, what do you take me for 😡😡

 

**[John 🐱10:35 am:]**

dont get pissed, I’m just looking out for u 😜😜

 

**[Ten 10:37 am:]**

Sure, beast.

 

**[John 10:38 am:]**

Whatever, you love me. 😛 See you soon, bitch!!! Tee and I will be there at the airport!!! 😘😘❤️

 

**[Ten 10:38 am:]**

Please calm down. 😷 Love you.

 

Ten dozes off, and it isn’t until he feels a nudge on his arm that he stirs awake. His neck is absolutely stiff, and it hurts to move his head to turn to the right, and that’s when he sees Kun at the aisle, face all mischievous and bright.

Ten raises his eyebrow.

“So,” Kun whispers. The Japanese lady is fast asleep and doesn’t wake when Kun accidentally hits her elbow with his thigh. “No one is seated next to me, and we’ve got 11 more hours on this flight. Wanna move up?”

Ten looks to his left at the couple who haven’t stopped canoodling and gathers his belongings.

 

-

 

The flight attendant takes note of his seat change, and it’s a simple matter of shoving his bag under the seat before Ten is settling down next to Kun. He has 11 hours next to the man who had definitely been more than his friend, and only slightly less than his ex-boyfriend.

Fun.

It hasn’t even been five minutes and Ten is already ribbing Kun for his choice of in-flight entertainment.

“How is it that it’s been years and you still haven’t developed any decent taste?” Ten asks in disgust as Kun hits play on Avatar. Kun flicks his nose.

“Not all of us are pretentious hipsters like you, Ten,” Kun responds, deadpan, putting his headphones on.

“How is being a fan of Villeneuve a pretentious hipster thing?” Ten asks, yanking the headset off.

God, he missed this.

The way Kun is smiling, he has, too.

 

-

 

[“I don’t want to watch ‘Her’,” Kun whines when Ten nags him about it for the third time this week. “I’ve got so much to do, and I don’t want to be depressed over Joaquin Phoenix’s shitty mustache.”

“You made me watch Man of Steel with you, asshole,” Ten replies.

Kun sighs.

“Why don’t you ask Doyoung to go with you?” Kun says while Ten rolls around and messes up his bedding. “Aren’t you like, into him?”

“Yeah, but he’s not you,” Ten says absentmindedly.

He doesn’t see the blush that appears on Kun’s neck.

Later, they leave to watch ‘Her’.]

 

-

 

Kun falls asleep 37 minutes into Avatar, his head resting against the closed window, his jaw slack. He’s snoring really softly.

Ten glances at him, and remembers the first time he had woken up next to Kun, about three months into their hormone-crazed setup.

He closes his eyes.

 

-

 

[Ten can see his heart beating against his rib cage. He’s barely moved— can’t, really, because Kun is asleep on his arm. Why Ten has his arm around him, he has no idea. This is territory neither of them have breached, have ever brought up. He wasn’t supposed to fall asleep.

He tells himself to calm down. Kun takes a sharp inhale, and sits up in bed, eyes open, and then squinting as he realizes Ten is still in bed with him.

“You spent the night,” Kun says, and it’s not anything. Not accusatory. Not a question. Just a statement of fact. Ten nods.

“Wanna go again?” Ten asks, already leaning in for a kiss, not giving a shit about morning breath or the bruises he can feel on his lower back.

A Cheshire Cat smile appears on Kun’s face.

 “Yeah,” he says against Ten’s lips. “Yeah."

They both miss their morning classes, but it doesn’t matter, because Kun is riding him like there’s no tomorrow, and Ten  _nearly_  blanks out from how good Kun is with his mouth, especially when he swallows everything down.

(That’s a lie. Ten definitely blanks out after that.)

]

 

-

 

They both wake up in time for their in-flight meals being served. Kun is ecstatic when they tell him they’re serving a fish option. Ten has never understood his love for airplane food, but he does ask for an extra glass of wine with his fish, and Kun wriggles in his seat with his glass of scotch.

It’s when they’re 8 hours into their flight, four glasses of wine for each of them respectively when Kun says, “You know, Tennie, there’s a lot I wish I had said back then.”

Ten turns to look at him a little too quickly, and it makes him nauseous, makes the wine in his stomach slosh too much.

“I used to be in love with you, you know that?” Kun says, smiling. “Like, bone-deep, head-over-heels, soul-crushing, all those hyphenated adjectives.”

Ten stares at him with his jaw hanging.

“I knew you weren’t the relationship type, so I never said anything. But I was.”

Ten tries to come up with a response that doesn’t suck, but all he’s got is, “I’m really glad you didn’t say anything.”

Kun smiles at him, stretches his neck out, twists in his seat.

“I know,” Kun responds and pats him on the arm. “I know, Tennie.”

 

-

 

[Ten doesn’t do relationships. It’s just not his thing.

He’s watched his friends go through hurdles for their significant others; has watched Johnny go through heartbreak after heartbreak and held him while he cried; had watched his own parents’ dissolution happen in real time. He’d rather avoid it.

But what Ten does like is getting off. And he really, really likes getting off with Kun. Johnny tells him that that’s gonna bite him in the ass; Ten says that not everyone is built that way he and Taeyong are— match made in heaven, all that.

(He does tell Johnny later, a little too high, a little too drunk, that he hopes he has that one day, but right now? Nope.)

So when Kun proposes their little setup— a good fuck, and no strings attached, it’s perfect for Ten. It’s all he’s ever wanted. All the good shit, none of the drama. None of the annoying rules that come with making anything “official”, no pressure.

And the sex? Top notch.

It’s so topnotch that sometimes Ten will find himself hard just from thinking about their previous fuck and will text Kun in the middle of his History of Graphic Design class and ask Kun when lab ends for him. Ten will send him a thotty little selca taken in a foggy bathroom, or a saved video of Ten stroking himself, and Kun will shoot back with, “You made me fuck up my titration, asshole.”

Ten will reply with, “I’ll be in your room as soon as my class ends. Don’t forget the condoms," and Kun will respond with “RIP”.

Later, he’ll kiss Ten without even saying hello. He’ll swing the door shut with his foot and latch his lips onto Ten’s and get on his knees muttering, “Such a goddamn tease.”

It’s really easy to rile Kun up.]

 

-

 

“When?” Ten asks, his curiosity getting the better of him. “Like, I wanna know, cos you were either really, really good at hiding it, or I’m really, really fucking dense and didn’t catch it at all?”

Kun looks thoughtful. He’s got crows feet that he didn’t use to have. He hums.

“I don’t think I ever really like, realized it until after grad,” Kun responds. “I mean, I thought it once in a while. Almost said it twice, maybe? I know that doesn’t make sense. I was never really sure about how I felt about you then until after it ended. So maybe that’s why.”

Kun finishes the last of the still water that’s on his little table before shoving the cup into a little plastic bag he’s got for trash until he can toss it when he leaves to use the bathroom.

“I almost called you, when I moved back to Seoul. I almost called you to tell you. But then I thought about it, decided to call Johnny to ask for his advice. He told me it would be better if I didn’t, for both our sakes. So,” Kun cuts off, folding his used napkin into a smaller square before wiping his mouth. “So I worked on getting over you instead.”

Ten remains quiet for a little while, contemplates the knowledge that Johnny had known, and had advised Kun that way. He thinks that any other person would have been angry about that.

But Ten is so, so grateful.

Johnny really does love him, really does know him.

“Johnny was right,” Ten says. “I really just... wasn’t looking for anything then. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I really, really loved our setup, but that’s why I loved it, cos it was so easy with you. You never pressured me into anything. You never policed me. I liked being free.”

“What makes you think you wouldn’t have been if we had gotten together for real?”

Kun doesn’t sound hurt. He isn’t trying to guilt Ten into anything; he’s really just asking. Something inside the architecture of Ten’s heart rearranges itself to open an inch.

Huh. Curious.

“Me,” Ten responds. “I think I would have freaked out either way. I was such a shit back then, you know that.”

Kun snorts, this ugly, ungraceful thing.

“You’re right about that,” Kun responds. “You really were a pain in the ass. And you were so judgemental.”

Ten slaps his hand.

 

-

 

[“I don’t get why all the pretty ones settle,” Ten says, sighing, his chin on his hand, staring at yet another popular pretty girl on campus holding hands with someone who is, at best, a 5.

They’re seated outside by the field, Ten’s copy of UGLY: The Aesthetics of Everything held open by his other hand. Kun rolls his eyes while he erases his calculations from the borders of his notebook.

“What?” Ten says, not missing the gesture, or the huff Kun lets out.

“Do you ever talk with a filter? Think about what you say before you say them?” Kun responds, hunching over his work again. A small breeze makes the tree over their little picnic table rustle.

“Only when I’m talking to professors,” Ten says.

“That’s not true, I know you got called to talk to Professor Jun last week for a quip you made in class,” Kun fires back.

“That is false advertising. I’m suing for libel. I talked to him for the quip he made about bisexuals.”]

 

-

 

“I’m not like that anymore,” Ten says, and adjusts the blanket that has bunched up around his waist.

“Oh, I don’t doubt that Tennie,” Kun says, and it should be patronizing, but it isn’t.

He’s clearly forgotten just how easily Kun used to get him. Still gets him.

“I’m not much like who I used to be either,” Kun says, leaning back in his seat. “Pining is less my speed.”

He winks at Ten, and Ten wants to punch him in his beautiful teeth.

“Yeah? You sure about that?”

“You trying to test me, Tennie?” Kun fires back, eyes shining.

 

-

 

[So it turns out that Kun is not as vanilla as Ten had thought he would be, which is to say, he never expected Kun to be into getting a blowjob while they drive through a highway, Kun’s cock hitting the back of his throat as soon as Kun hits the fucking breaks before swerving. Ten had figured that semi-public sex would be low on Kun’s list of things to tick off on his private little kink bingo, but hey, Kun has his left hand on the wheel, right hand in Ten’s hair, and Ten?

Well, Ten’s exactly where he’s supposed to be, all things considered. Ten pulls back, takes Kun’s cock in his hand to lick at the head like ice cream, and Kun is panting, trying to keep his breathing in check, trying to prevent himself from flooring on the gas.

“You okay there, Qian?” Ten asks like he isn’t pumping his hand along Kun’s length.

Kun’s look is half murderous, half completely far gone, and Ten decides it’s a really good look on him. He swallows Kun down just as they cross the border out of the city and Kun has to stop the car and hit the hazard button with too much force as he comes hard down Ten’s throat. Kun eats him out for good measure and lets Ten cum on his gorgeous face, his mouth held open, tongue catching what falls on his lips.

By some miracle, they don’t get caught.]

 

-

 

Ten nearly gives in, thinks, “Hey, I’ve never joined the Mile High Club,” but then remembers that Kun has just confessed that he used to be in love with him. It doesn’t feel appropriate. Also, he worries about getting caught now that he’s older.

Ten backs down.

“No, I believe you,” Ten replies.

Whatever tension that had built up over their conversation seems to deflate after Ten’s response but it’s still there, this palpable thing between them, a charged attraction that Ten is sure is mutual but also might be a carryover from nearly a year of having explored each other. Kun places his headset back on and flips through the gallery of movie and show options. Ten eyes his choices. Kun chooses John Mulaney’s special, and Ten nearly reconsiders that almost-but-not-quite offer for airplane sex.

“I thought you still didn’t have any taste,” Ten says.

“And I thought I told you that I wasn’t much like who I used to be?” Kun deadass chortles. “Come on, watch this special with me.”

“I’ve seen it already,” Ten says, turning back to his own screen.

“Still good,” Kun says, and hits play again.

Ten watches the special with him.

 

-

 

They land in O’Hare with no hitches and disembark from the plane fairly quickly given Ten’s seat change. Kun has arrangements for a driver to pick him up and take him to his Airbnb in Boystown. He’d declined Johnny and Taeyong’s offer to stay at their house so he can see the city. They walk to baggage claim together, and exchange numbers now that both their phones are powered up. (Kun doesn’t believe in just putting his phone on airplane mode.) They latch on to the spotty airport WiFi, and Johnny’s messages come in, telling Ten that they’re at arrivals.

It’s comfortable chatter while they wait for their luggage to arrive, other passengers milling about, squeezing in between them to pull out hard shell suitcases and duffel bags twice their body weight. They’ve got a rehearsal dinner in two days but Ten is seeing Kun the next day. They walk to arrivals together, lugging their suitcases behind them.

Kun’s Rimowa seems ostentatious, and Ten tells him as much. Kun says that he’s already gotten his return on investment. Ten pats his Delsey gently and says, “I’ll never let you go.”

It makes Kun laugh. Ten likes that.

There’s a crowd at arrivals: families calling out to their loved ones, people from hotels holding up signs with Mr. So and So written on them. And then there’s Johnny— massive, towering over even the white people in the throng, holding an equally massive tarp that has Ten’s face printed on it. Ten would be embarrassed if it weren’t for the fact that Ten had done exactly the same thing when Johnny and Taeyong had flown in to visit him a few years ago, and Johnny had promised to get him back for it after hiding his face behind a black face mask and crushing him in a hug.

“Ten! Tennie! Ten! Kun! Kunnie!” Johnny is jumping up and down, using the most sickly sweet voice he can muster. Taeyong is standing next to him looking fond and giving anyone who dares complain about his fiancée the dirtiest look imaginable. God, they really do deserve each other.

Taeyong goes in to embrace Ten first while Johnny hauls Kun up in this giant bear hug, and Kun just lets him.

“You didn’t tell me you were flying in today! I thought you’d come in later yet,” Taeyong admonishes after Johnny has set Kun down.

“I was gonna surprise you?” Kun says, sheepish.

“That’s a weak ass reason and you know it,” Taeyong says, and Kun can’t help but rub the back of his neck, knowing he’s been found out.

Ten knows there’s a lot Kun doesn’t seem to be letting on. Even on the plane, he’d deflected when Ten had asked why Johnny and Taeyong didn’t know he was already flying in.

He gives Kun an out.

“Hey, there’s a sign with your name on it,” Ten says, spotting some short redheaded guy in a cheap rental suit holding a sign with what seems to be two different shades of a black marker and the name ‘QIAN KUN’ in block letters.

Kun smiles at him. Nods.

“Looks like my ride is here, fellow gays,” Kun says, and the four of them start to walk over to the driver who looks like budget Ed Sheeran. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow morning, first thing.”

Kun hugs all of them, Ten included, and goes.

 

-

 

It’s cold as fuck in Chicago this time of the year, Ten notes as they head to the car park, Taeyong insisting on having Johnny lug Ten’s luggage around while the two of them walk ahead. Taeyong, Ten observes, is much more animated now, his words mixing with English easily. It’s cute. Ten is so proud of him. Taeyong gets behind the wheel and Johnny folds himself into the passenger seat while Ten makes himself comfortable in the back with a Pikachu plushie he just knows belongs to Johnny.

“Oh, he’s mine!” Taeyong says while he backs out of their parking slot. “I got him last month.”

Ten holds the stuffed Pokemon to his chest, leans back, and closes his eyes while Johnny and Taeyong interrogate him about his mother, his work, and his flight. Which of course reminds him.

“Johnny, Kun told me about him telling you he was in love with me,” Ten says, eyes shut.

Johnny doesn’t respond, and Ten is sure he’s probably frozen in his seat.

“Thank you,” Ten says, now eyeing the back of Johnny’s head before Johnny turns in his seat to look back at Ten.

Johnny smiles, dimples and all.

“I knew I made the right call,” Johnny says.

“You did.”

 

-

Kun startles awake from the back seat when budget Ed Sheeran says, “Sir, sir, we’ve arrived.” His Airbnb is the basement of a house that’s in a neat little neighborhood. There are rainbow flags on every streetlamp. Kun allows himself to relax and makes his way up the stairs.

The house is owned by some elderly couple whose daughter has moved out of state, so they rent the basement out. There’s a dusty little PFLAG button on one of the desks in his room. He snaps a photo of it. It’s a great place, considering the location and the price.

As soon as he manages to connect to the WiFi, his messages come in, and there’s one from Ten, sent an hour prior.

**[Tennie 🐱 2:12 pm]**

Hey, do you maybe wanna take me around your neighborhood later? I can Uber over. 😆

Kun checks the time and scrambles to respond.

 

-

 

They meet at Crisp, which isn’t exactly Kun’s neighborhood per se, but they’re both craving Korean fried chicken, and Johnny swears by their food.

(“You eat like a white boy,” Ten says. Taeyong nods sagely in agreement. John insists he’s a foodie. Tee shakes his head slowly.)

This isn’t a date, Ten tells himself. It isn’t a date because neither one of them said it’s a date. He just fucking decided to invite himself over to Kun’s part of town, and eat a meal with him instead of spending the night with his best friends.

God, he’s an idiot.

(Except he’s not that big an idiot when both best friends had insisted on him going out tonight, right?

Right?

If anyone’s to blame for whatever happens on this fine autumn evening, it’s definitely those meddling gays named Johnny and Taeyong.)

Ten orders a Buddha bowl to share, and Kun gets them soy garlic chicken wings. He’s reminded immediately just how much he had underestimated their sizes when their orders are called out. Ten swallows his iced tea while Kun splits their food.

This feels like a date.

When they finish dinner while talking about the concerts they’ve gone to in the years between the last concert they attended together, Kun suggests that they walk through the streets of his neighborhood. Ten bundles up in his green scarf. Kun pulls his leather gloves on.

“You know,” Kun says while they walk. “Sometimes I think about moving here.”

Ten doesn’t expect this, especially not after the fact that Kun had been so adamant about getting back to Seoul after graduation.

“Like it would be easier to be myself here,” Kun continues.

Ten nods. He’s thought about it, too.

“Johnny loves it so much here, and Taeyong seems to have done the same,” Ten says. He’s got his hands shoved in his coat pockets. “It’s kind of infectious to have Taeyong talk about a city that’s so foreign to me. You’ll get it tomorrow.”

They walk past a bar that has a bunch of twenty-somethings spilling out of it. Robyn is playing inside the bar-- the music filters out whenever the doors open because someone or another is lighting up a cigarette or vaping under the streetlight. Ten turns to face Kun who is smiling.

They enter.

They step inside and there’s a giant disco ball in the room past the bar itself. The walls are splashed with pink and turquoise; the lights dance over the faces of writhing bodies, but it’s the voices that carry over to where they’re standing. This crowd really likes Robyn.

 

-

 

[“I’m in the corner, watching you kiss her, ohhhhhhhh~”

“We aren’t even at the party yet and you’re already trying to make me deaf,” Kun says. His hair is sticking up. He doesn’t want to be awake, but Ten had sat on his belly for thirty minutes forcing him to get up.

“Look, if you come with me to the party tonight, you can fuck me in the bathroom with the door unlocked,” Ten says sweetly. There’s a fine dusting of glitter on his cheeks. Kun purses his lips.

“You’re bribing me using my kinks,” Kun whines. “That’s like, unethical.”

“Yeah but you’re intrigued enough to want to see if I’ll follow through,” Ten replies.

Kun doesn’t dignify Ten’s words with a response, just changes into this black sequinned top and a white bomber.

“Come on, Tennie,” he says. Ten goes in for a kiss.]

 

-

 

Kun grabs them both of them a couple of Stella Artois before they make the way into the crowd. ‘Dancing On My Own’ is winding down, and then—

“Call your girlfriend,” both Ten and Kun sing out loud as the rest of the crowd does the same. “It’s time you had the talk! Give your reasons, say it’s not her fault!”

It’s like Ten and Kun are 20 again, dancing around in a shitty college bar in a tiny college town. Ten closes his eyes and moves his hips and imagines everyone else they used to spend all their time with— remembers the nights that blended into sunrises, the sloppy kisses, the raucous laughter. Remembers the night that Yuta had driven all of them out to their first gay bar at Doyoung’s insistence and they’d all been scared shitless until they did 5 rounds of Jaeger shots and Doyoung and Yuta had vigorously made out on the dance floor.

Kun brings him back to the present, leaning in to shout over the music, and they say it in unison, “Two-thirty!” and break off into their own dance breaks. They’d done this so many times, different iterations of the bridge, but it always started with them shouting the timestamp.

They dance for what feels like hours, knocking back three more beers until Ten is sure he’s hit his sweet spot between tipsy and far gone, and Kun is giggling much more than his sober self is used to. This is the easiest thing Ten has ever done— dancing with Kun. The easiest.

The bar announces its last call. The DJ plays “Closing Time”, and Ten knows that the exact moment that Kun opens is mouth is going to be him going on about how the song actually means the lead singer’s son’s birth and Ten has heard it so many times already that he just--

Kisses Kun.

It’s a small thing. A peck. But Ten pulls away, regrets it immediately because he hadn’t asked. He hadn’t asked permission to do that. Hates that he’s done it because he hates it when that shit happens in movies and he cannot believe that he did that to Kun. Kun of all people.

“I’m so sorry, fuck, I’m so sorry Kun,” Ten says, hand to his mouth. “I should have asked.”

“Tennie, it’s okay,” Kun responds.

Ten would be lying if he said that he hadn’t been eyeing Kun all night. He tells himself it’s his body. It’s just that his body remembers Kun and that’s it. That’s why his nerves felt like they were singing.

But this is a dull, quiet ache all of a sudden.

They’re not the same people they used to be. And Ten thinks that they’ve got too much history at this point for anything that happens beyond this singular moment to ever be just a fling, just a one-off thing.

Kun takes Ten’s face in his hands, presses his forehead to Ten’s.

“I think,” Kun says clearly, no slurring, nothing. “That we should get you home.”

Ten nods, Kun’s thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. Kun looks like he wants to kiss him. Ten feels like he wants Kun to do it. God, he really wants him to do it.

Kun steps back. Takes his hand.

Kun knows that it’s too late to call an Uber back to Johnny and Taeyong's. Ten is sure that he knows this.

He also knows that if he and Kun go back to Kun’s place, the likelihood of him pulling some more incredibly stupid shit will increase tenfold.

He decides to be honest.

“Kun,” Ten says while they wait for an Uber to take them back to Kun’s Airbnb. “If I go back home with you, I’m going to want to kiss you.”

Kun looks up from his phone, a little car moving on the screen.

Kun looks back down.

“You and me both, Tennie.”

 

-

The car ride back to Kun’s place is quiet. Their hands are at their side, their pinkies a hair’s breadth away. Their Uber driver is quiet. Kun gives him a $20 tip. Ten follows him into the neat little basement, socked feet on the carpeted floor.

“You can take the bed,” Kun says. “You should take the bed. I’ll take the couch.”

Ten is completely dismayed. He doesn’t want to displace Kun, but he also knows that now that Kun has said it, there’s no changing his mind. He tries anyway.

Kun just repeats himself.

Kun makes his way to the bathroom while Ten sits on the edge of the bed, stone-cold sober, with his elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped in front of him. He knows that he and Kun are different people. He isn’t a slave to his body anymore the way they used to be.

And yet.

His entire body is a tight coil, tension running from his head to his limbs, and Ten nearly comes undone, nearly loses his resolve and temperance when Kun’s bare feet appear on the spot of carpet Ten has been staring at.

“Here,” Kun says, holding out some hotel toothbrush.

Ten takes it, grateful for the chance to brush the acid from his mouth. He stares at himself in the mirror, the circles under his eyes betraying the jet lag and the exhaustion he feels. He washes his face, brushes his teeth. Thinks pointedly about something that isn’t kissing Kun. When Ten steps out of the bathroom, he sees Kun rise up from the couch. Tracks his movement as Kun strides over to him, and steps into Kun’s arms.

They’re forehead to forehead again. Hot breath. Kun has his hand cupping Ten’s cheek, Ten’s hands gripping Kun’s woolen jumper.

“What are we doing?” Ten asks quietly.

“I think it’s called ‘practicing restraint’,” Kun laughs softly.

“But why are we restraining ourselves?”

Ten knows he sounds petulant. Kun strokes his thumb over Ten’s lower lip.

“I’m— starting to forget why, honestly,” Kun replies.

Ten wants to kiss Kun. He wants to chase the taste of Kun’s tongue with his own, wants to worship Kun’s body and feel the burn of it the way he had the first time Kun had ever laid his hands on him. But it’s too messy, wanting just that. And Ten doesn’t know if wanting more than that is something he’s ready for just yet, even if it’s been years. There is something about how he feels around Kun that cannot be explained with just physical attraction, and Ten tries and tries to find a name for it. He doesn’t want to stop trying just yet. It takes everything for Ten to bring his hand up to Kun’s wrist and tug at it softly, away from his face.

“I— I remember why now,” Ten says. He’s trying his absolute fucking best to keep his breathing steady.

He and Kun owe themselves and each other that much: a chance to remember what they were like before their bodies took precedence.

Kun swallows. Takes a step back.

“You’re right,” Kun says. “Okay.”

 

-

 

[Ten catches Kun staring at him one morning, after another night that Ten has spent in his room. They had gotten back late, around 3 or 4, and Ten had spent a good hour on just foreplay before he had hitched Kun’s legs up over his shoulders and fucked into him as the sun rose. It’s a tug on his gut, Ten thinks. Something that feels like it’s shifted left of center. Kun doesn’t stare at him like that, or at least has never seen it, has never seen that sort of softness around his eyes before. It makes Ten curious.

It makes him afraid.

It makes Ten’s hands shake, makes him avoid Kun’s eyes for the rest of the morning. Makes him worry that this is veering into territory he isn’t ready to be in, doesn’t _want_  to be in. Makes him think about being suffocated, about being expected to act a certain way. He avoids Kun for the rest of the day until Kun and Sicheng knock on his door and make him go out with them for some Cuban food at dinner, and Kun feels the same, like the morning’s softness was a glitch in the system. Ten allows himself to relax when he and Kun argue about fruit.

It never happens again, Ten notes. He comes to this realization on the morning of Kun’s graduation, as he dabs on some lip balm and puts his new gold studs into his right helix and flat. Thinks about how he’s gonna miss the baby bear that is his... best friend? His lover? Ten gags. Kun is, as expected, the one to give the valedictory address. He steps up to the podium in his evergreen toga and his dimples are on full display when he smiles at the rousing crowd. Some mothers sigh behind Ten and Johnny, talking about how handsome the speaker is. Ten laughs.

It never really ends— not officially at least, because there wasn’t anything to end really, except for the physicality and ease of having someone else to get off with. They fuck though, the night before Kun’s flight back to Korea.

They don’t sleep, they go five rounds instead.]

 

-

 

Ten wakes up to a blaring alarm from Kun’s phone that is on the little table next to the couch. His thighs and back are aching from the dancing they did at the club, and it hits him just how thirsty he is. Kun stirs awake, hair in disarray. It makes Ten’s chest clench tight.

Kun is really meant to head over to Johnny and Taeyong’s today, so Ten sleeps in a little more while Kun gets ready. He prays, as he lies down on the bed that Kun hasn’t even touched yet since they landed, that Kun has taken his clothes into the bathroom with him to change.

Fortune doesn’t favor Ten.

Kun steps out of the bathroom with a baby blue towel wrapped around his waist, and Ten thinks that he’s showing off, which pisses him off.

“What are you, a peacock?” Ten hisses grumpily from the bed.

Kun throws him a look from over his shoulder.

“This is my room, asshole,” Kun says lightheartedly, throwing his bundled up sleep clothes at Ten, who sputters and blocks the offensive fabric with his hands before they hit his face. “You can keep looking, though.”

Ten fumes. When the fuck did Kun get so cheeky?

 

**[John 🐱 7:28 am]**

Psssst lover boy, you didnt come home last night eyyyyyy 

 

**[Ten 7:28 am]**

SHUT

 

**[John 🐱7:29 am]**

OMG 😛😛😛😛😛😛😛😛😛😛😛😛😛😛

 

**[Ten 7:31 am]**

oh my fucking god shut up, nothing happened

 

**[John 🐱 7:32 am]**

Wait what

 

**[Ten 7:32 am]**

Nothing except for a whole lotta sexual tension ig

 

**[John 🐱 7:35 am]**

I’ve just conferred with my fiancée, Lee Taeyong, who is my fiancée, in case you didn’t know, and he told me, “they are not bringing that dank ass pheromone juice into my Christian household”

 

Ten looks up from his phone to see Kun already styling his hair in place. He clears his throat.

“Uh,” he starts. “Johnny and Taeyong don’t want us to come over yet.”

Kun halts his movements and looks at him from the mirror.

“Why not?”

Ten reads Johnny’s message out loud.

Kun chokes on his saliva after his mouth does this sort of laugh-gasp combination, and hunches over coughing, which spurs Ten to get off the bed and whack him on the back as if it achieves anything.

“I don’t even have clothes, I can’t stand these two,” Ten whines.

 

-

Ten cannot believe he is standing in front of one of Chicago’s top tourist destinations wearing one of Kun’s fresh briefs under Kun’s skinniest pair of jeans, pulling Kun’s jacket tightly around his slightly smaller frame but here he is, his face distorted on a burnished silver bean. Kun stares at it and Ten goes on about how long it took to finish the installation and Kapoor’s feud with Semple over colors. Kun decides to test Ten’s limits by mentioning that it was also featured in Transformers: Age of Extinction.

 

Ten says, “I can’t believe I used to blow you.”

 

-

Later, at the Art Institute of Chicago, Ten gets to show off his encyclopedic knowledge of art theory. Kun stands closer to him when Ten explains pieces in a mix of English, Mandarin and, Korean.

In front of a Pollock, Kun takes his hand.

 

-

They’re on the ferry, Ten’s gloved hand in Kun’s, when Ten says it.

“Kun,” Ten says, and they both know it’s serious. This is serious.  “I want this.”

Kun keeps his eyes on a passing building.

“Are you thinking of me now or who I was when we were messing around?”

Ten bites his lip and smiles at Kun.

 

-

They rush back to Kun’s place when the ferry docks at Navy Pier, feet at a pace that they haven’t gone at since maybe after the first week of them fucking, back when none of their friends knew their arrangement yet. The wind is biting. The streets are gloriously devoid of traffic.

Kun has a tight grip on his knees, refuses to touch Ten at all on the ride home, and he’s grateful. Gives himself a chance to slow things down. This is the ache of a years-long distance in more ways than just physical. This is monumental— a step he hadn’t allowed himself to take.

When they reach the basement and Ten has taken his (Kun’s) jacket off, Kun is in his space in a minute.

Kun’s kiss is searing and unfamiliar in its speed-- in how slow and deep he kisses Ten.

He has never kissed Ten like this before; Ten has never been kissed like this before.

Every second that ticks by is fire.

Muscle memory lends way to the new taste of him, the new feel of him.

Ten had expected his body to know exactly what to do, but Kun moves differently, and it hits home that this is square one— a blank slate in more ways than one, a do-over, a chance at something lasting.

 

-

 

[Kun sometimes uses too much tongue, Ten thinks, even as he has his hands on Kun’s ass, grinding into him against the wall of the gym’s locker room. Kun had dared him saying that he’d be able to make Ten come just by kissing him and playing with his nipples.

There’s saliva dripping down the length of Ten’s neck, and it should be disgusting, but Ten revels in how filthy Kun gets when he’s around Ten, like a dog in heat. It turns him on like no end. Kun pinches his nipple, and Ten is rock hard in his shorts, cock brushing against fabric.

Ten’s head is swimming, a moan escaping from his throat when he feels Kun’s tongue pulling on his earlobe, teeth clacking against the gold hoops. He can barely breathe. His belly is taught and he’s so close to coming and when Kun yanks his shirt up and bites gently into one of Ten’s nipples, laving at the hard nib with his tongue, Ten is coming in his boxer briefs, hips grinding against Kun’s. Ten feels dirty, so dirty. Kun is so hot, he’s losing his mind.]

 

-

 

Ten has always cringed at people who waxed poetic about the way people talk about kissing, like there’s supposed to be this magical taste apart from, well, saliva and sweat.

Or at least, he had, until right now, because all of a sudden, he tastes honey. It makes no fucking sense.

 

-

 

[There are angry red scratches down the length of Kun’s back from where Ten’s long nails had raked themselves over his skin while Kun had fucked into him against the wall last Wednesday afternoon. It’s Friday morning, and they’re still there. Johnny laughs at him.

Gentle is not a word that Kun and Ten have ever used with each other. Their remarks are scathing even when they’re hilarious; their movements often hurried, like they’re competing to see who gets the upper hand, even if tongue and teeth render both of them useless.]

 

-

 

Ten straddles Kun, their jeans both undone, but not quite all the way down yet. Kun feels harder, filled out in planes where he used to be wiry. There’s a very thin trail of hair that starts at Kun’s belly button and makes its way down into his boxer briefs. Ten licks him there.

He is hell-bent on taking Kun apart slowly. He wants to know if Kun still tastes the same, if his first thought from twelve timezones ago carries the same weight and wonder as it used to. When he pulls Kun’s jean’s down, his cock curves up to his belly, and Ten groans at the sight.

Even if the situation has changed, even if the gravity that latches them onto the bed feels heavier and heavier, when Ten licks over the leaking slit of Kun’s cock, the reaction sounds like something he knows, and it grounds him. Makes him feel less like he’s disintegrating. He fits his lips around the crown, his hand stroking up and down the length of Kun’s hardness, and he sucks, his cheeks hollowing as Kun’s eyes shut, his jaw slack, a groan escaping as Kun grips the back of Ten’s neck, who is clearly restraining himself from bucking his hips up.

Kun is moaning, a litany of swear words coming out of his kiss-swollen lips. Ten squeezes harder around the base, making Kun’s cock twitch in his hand and Kun lock eyes with him. Ten takes him in his mouth fully, Kun's cock hitting the back of his throat, Ten palming himself. He's so hard he can barely think, barely move. Kun is tugging on his hair, a warning, trying to get Ten to pull off, but Ten slides his fingers over Kun's nipples, an old trick, and Kun is coming, coming, and Ten is swallowing down every drop.

Kun tastes exactly the same.

Ten is undone.

 

-

 

[It's been three days since they started their little setup.

Kun has his eyes fixed on the ceiling when Ten comes to. He has his head resting on Kun’s bare chest and it’s when he realizes that he’d passed out. He’s never had an orgasm that good. Maybe this thing with Kun‘ll work out.

“I’m hungry,” Ten says.

“Let’s get pizza,” Kun says.

 “Cool.”]

 

-

 

Ten finishes in Kun’s hand, with Ten lying half sprawled over Kun’s body, leg thrown over Kun’s thigh, his lips on Kun’s neck, sucking a hickey into it that will no doubt show in all the rehearsal dinner and wedding photos. Kun does the same. They’re past the point of caring.

 

-

 

[Kun always, always handles the aftercare. Ten has only ever done it once when Kun had passed out after they had tried some weird jackknife position that had been amazing for his prostate but agony for his back. But it’s usually Kun. His movements are always brisk, efficient.

And then after that, it’s business as usual. Kun will shower. Ten will stretch his muscles out. They’ll meet Taeyong and Johnny for dinner or a movie, and Yuta and Doyoung will come along after Yuta finishes his shift at the coffee shop.

They never cuddle.]

 

-

 

They’re cuddling now, of course. This is foreign, too. Kun’s got this faraway look on his face, but it’s peaceful, and Ten can feel his chest rearranging itself. It’s not entirely unpleasant.

“Can you please tell me what you’re thinking? You’re starting to scare me shitless,” Ten says.

Kun brings him in closer.

“I thought this would hurt,” Kun admits.

“What do you mean?” Ten’s heart is racing. Racing.

“Seeing you, being near you, kissing you,” Kun replies. “But none of it does.”

Ten exhales, rests his head on Kun’s bare chest like that day years ago.

Ten is startled by his phone ringing, and reaches over to see who it is.

[John 🐱calling...]

It’s a FaceTime video call. Kun says, “Answer it.”

So he does, the two of them completely shirtless. Johnny’s voice loads before the video does and he says, “Hey, Ten—oHHHMYGOD!”

“Yongie!!! Tee! Taeyong!”

Johnny’s video is a mess of pixels, and he’s running through his house. All they see as they laugh at Johnny is his shirt until Taeyong comes into frame and he goes, “OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD” and jumps up and down with his fiancée.

The pair calm down enough for Taeyong to say, “Well now that your sexual tension is palpably at an acceptable level that meets health safety regulations, will you both please come over for dinner already?”

“I’ve already got my meal--”  Kun starts.

Ten cuts him off with his hand on Kun's mouth and says “OKAYYYY.”

 

-

 

Something that surprises both Ten and Kun when they arrive at Johnny and Taeyong’s is that Taeyong is the one who ushers them into the house after giving them both hearty embraces, and Johnny is the one in the open kitchen stirring something in a saucepan.

Ten visibly gulps.

“Johnny cooks now?” Kun says, heading over to nudge their behemoth of a best friend with his head, making Johnny turn around and bring Kun in for a one-armed hug.

“Looooots of things I do now,” Johnny sing-songs. “You see our plates? Pottery! It’s my thing now, too.”

“Big day for changes, huh,” Taeyong says, raising his eyebrow at Ten, who smiles at his old roommate sweetly before sticking his tongue out and handing over the bottle of red that Kun had insisted they bring for dinner.

“I’m gonna go freshen up,” Ten says, rising from the table.

“Kun, you are not going to follow him,” Johnny warns while he plates some salmon onto a white plate. “You’re sitting here so my fiancée Lee Taeyong can interrogate you about my best man, Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul.”

“Why do you keep doing that?” Ten shouts from the guest room.

“Because you’re my baby and I want to protect you!” Johnny shouts back. “My baby before Taeyong became my baby!”

Kun covers his face with his hand and Taeyong shrugs, saying, “It’s the truth,” before pouring Kun a glass of wine. “I mean, I guess you’re Kun’s baby now, too.”

“Can we all please calm down?” Kun says, laughing into the crystal. “We haven’t even gotten to that part yet.”

“But it’s getting there?” Johnny asks as he sets more plates down. “I mean, this isn’t a one-off thing, is it? You’re actually gonna like, define the relationship?”

“It literally has been only 12 hours, Johnny,” Kun replies.

“...And a year and a half,” Taeyong says, sipping from his wine glass and raising his eyebrows, eyes furtively looking away.

“I know you’re imitating the sipping tea meme, Taeyong,” Kun deadpans.

Johnny finally joins them at the table, slinging his arm around Taeyong, who gives him his own glass of wine. His expression is drawn into the tiniest of frowns.

“What did he say?” Johnny asks quietly, and it’s the most serious Kun has ever heard him be since his call years ago.

Kun’s smile is soft, dimple coming into full display.

“He said he wants this,” Kun says. “Wants me.”

John looks like he’s trying to not smile but failing at it miserably. Taeyong, bless him, is beaming.

“But you’re taking it slow?” Taeyong asks.

“We’re figuring it out.”

Johnny sniffles dramatically, pretending to wipe a non-existent tear away. Ten walks in at that moment, dressed in a soft t-shirt and with significantly less earrings on than he had arrived with.

“What did I miss?” Ten asks, taking the seat next to Kun, directly across Taeyong.

“Oh nothing, just me having a proud mama moment,” Johnny says, patting Ten’s wrist with his hand before sliding an empty glass next to Ten’s plate and filling it with Pinot noir.

Ten rolls his eyes, but his little smile betrays him.

“God, I love character development,” Taeyong says and starts serving up broccoli. “Look at you go, Tennie.”

“Wait, why is this all on me?” Ten asks, indignant.

“Because, baby,” Johnny says. “We’ve been waiting for you to have someone love you for a long time.”

Ten looks the couple, and then at Kun, who shrugs, and says, “We’re not in love yet.”

Ten smiles. Kun really, really fucking gets him.

“Yeah, easy on the l-word, guys,” Ten adds.

Johnny and Taeyong share their annoying _Look_ , the one where they communicate without words.

The rest of the evening veers away from the territory of Kun and Ten’s “budding romance” (Kun had thrown a bread roll at Johnny for saying those words) and more on the wedding. Most of the guests had landed during the day, and it thrills them to get the old group together. The rehearsal dinner is tomorrow, the wedding on the weekend. Xiaojun, Johnny and Taeyong’s Lord and savior with the best eyebrows this side of Chicago, had been the perfect wedding planner. Everything was pretty much set. They’re able to set a slow pace and catch up with friends.

Kun heads home for the night when it hits midnight, despite Johnny and Taeyong insisting that he stay. Ten walks him to the car when it arrives, and halts him with a hand on his wrist right before Kun pulls the door open. Ten feels himself changing, changing. He lets it happen.

Kun’s lips are stained marsala. Ten leans in to kiss him and chases the taste with his tongue.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Qian,” Ten says. Kun rolls his eyes.

“Insufferable,” Kun huffs and kisses his cheek before getting into the car.

“You know it,” Ten says, and shuts the door.

Taeyong is loading the dishes into the washer when Ten walks back into the kitchen. Johnny is at the head of the table, with a little clear book in his hands.

“No way,” Ten says, eyes half-moons as his smile lights his entire face up.

“Yes way,” Johnny replies.

 

-

 

[”I like you, but like, not enough, does that make sense?” Ten says, shoveling food into his mouth.

“Oh thank god, cos I’ve been into Yuta for like, a decade and l was just worried about, well, us,” Doyoung says.

Johnny gets back from the restroom.

“What’s happening?”

“Sike!” Taeyong says just as a flash goes off. The Polaroid comes out with a whir. He takes a seat across Johnny.

 

 

“Oh, Ten just broke up with me,” Doyoung says.

“It’s not a breakup when nothing happened,” Ten says, snorting.

“So cold,” Doyoung says, hand to his heart.

“Literally nothing happened, Doie,” Ten says, exasperated.

“Yeah yeah, you and your no relationships rule,” Doyoung says. “Like you and Kun aren’t anything.”

Ten steals food from Doyoung’s plate.

“We’re friends,” Ten says. “Who get off with each other. That’s it.”]

 

-

 

Ten runs his fingers over the next photo and smiles to himself.

“Can’t believe you kept these,” Ten says. They’ve been best friends for so long, it’s strange to see the origins of where they came from with fresh eyes.

“You kidding me? These are golden, Tennie,” Johnny says.

 

-

 

Ten laughs when he sees the photo of Johnny and Taeyong, remembers how he had texted him the morning after the first time he had taken Ten's roommate out on a date, and had sent the selca over.

“Nice clavicle, loverboy,” Ten had texted back. John sent a photo of Taeyong flipping him off.

 

Johnny flips the page onto the next photo and there it is. The one he had been looking for.

“Oh my god,” Ten says, hands flying to cover his face.

“That was like, six months into you guys being... whatever you guys were,” Johnny says.

Ten’s face is burning, his smile huge.

“Would you have ever imagined that Kun and I would be whatever we are now?” Ten asks, and it’s a sincere question.

 Ten feels arms wrap around his shoulders, Taeyong resting his chin over the top of his head.

“Tennie, we’ve been waiting years,” Taeyong says.

“You know we didn’t spend all that time pining for each other, right?” Ten asks, hands on Taeyong’s forearms.

“Yeah, we know. We’re the ones that were pining for you both to get your shit together,” Johnny says.

“OTP,” Taeyong sighs. “Our OTP.”

“Your what?” Ten laughs.

“Taeyong‘s big on fandoms right now,” Johnny explains. “It just means you guys were—are— our favorite couple.”

“Apart from like, you know, ourselves,” Taeyong clarifies.

Ten cannot believe these two idiots are tying the knot in a few days.

Finally.

There are more photos, dozens of them all printed out by Johnny himself, cut out and placed with care like little photo cards in the clear slots of the book.

“This copy is for you, Ten,” Johnny says. “We’ve got our own.”

Ten doesn’t realise he’s crying until the first tear hits.

 

-

 

When Ten settles in bed, it’s already half past 2 am. He’d put his phone on Do Not Disturb in order to catch up with the pair properly. Johnny had taken a video of Ten crying (“This is literally only the third time I’ve seen you cry ever, I need this for posterity!”).

There are three messages waiting for him from Kun. One of them is a stolen shot from when they had entered the museum earlier in the day. Kun had captioned it, “I like u wearing my clothes”

**[Qian Kun 🐻 1:27 am]**

Miss you already,

 

**[Qian Kun 🐻1:27 am]**

Bitch

 

Ten laughs.

 

**[Ten 2:34 am]**

I thought I had graduated from ‘bitch’ to ‘baby’ already 😪😞

 

Ten fluffs his pillows, sets his glasses aside. His message alert tone goes off.

 

**[Qian Kun 🐻2:34 am]**

Johnny’s the only one who can call u baby. I’ll come up with something else 🤔

 

**[Ten 2:35 am]**

Wow you didn’t even pretend that you haven’t been waiting for me to reply

 

**[Qian Kun 2:35 am]**

I don’t have to pretend to be anything with you anymore now 😄

 

**[Ten 2:36 am]**

Valid

 

**[Ten 2:36 am]**

😘

 

**[Ten 2:36 am]**

I miss you too, Qian. See you tomorrow ❤️

 

**[Qian Kun 🐻 2:37 am]**

**😳**  


**[Qian Kun 🐻2:37 am]**

😘 Night, Tennie.

 

Ten locks his phone, and sleep comes easy, immediate.

 

-

 

Ten really should have expected it, should have known it was coming when he wakes up and the first thing he hears is this really long drawn out “aaaaaaaaaa” from the living room and Taeyong’s voice screaming “Doyoungiiiieee” and feet that sound like they’re stomping around. He really should have known.

It is six fucking thirty in the morning, and Yuta is bursting in through his door and jumping onto the foot of the bed, tackling Ten who is screaming, screaming, breathless from the tickling.

“Tennie, Tennie,” Yuta says.

Doyoung is at the door.

“Literally all my friends are dogs,” Ten groans, head sticking out from under the massive black comforter he’s hidden under.

“I’m not a dog,” Doyoung says, his ass narrowly missing Ten’s head as he plops down next to him.

“Cats, we’re the cats,” Ten says, and Doyoung hugs him.

 

-

 

It doesn’t register to Ten that Johnny and Taeyong haven’t mentioned what’s gone on between Ten and Kun yet. It’s only when Kun arrives for brunch and Ten meets him at the door with a kiss and Doyoung is going, “WHAT THE FUCK?” with avocado toast still in his mouth that it does.

“Surprise?” Kun says, smiling while Yuta claps him on his back.

“Nobody ever tells me anything anymore,” Doyoung says, going back to chewing. He’s visibly upset. “Some ex you are, Ten.”

“I’m not your ex, oh my god Doyoung,” Ten says, pulling a seat out for Kun.

“Still so cold after all these years,” Doyoung says, making Johnny snort his orange juice out of his nose and the entire table just erupt in chaos because it sprays over Taeyong’s eggs Benedict and Taeyong is threatening to cancel the wedding.

Ten’s really fucking missed this.

-

 

Taeyong, of course, does not cancel the wedding. Instead, they break off, Taeyong and Johnny touring the rest around while Doyoung stays at the dining table with Ten, the both of them sitting with their laptops open.

“I’ve spent months on this thing,” Doyoung says, Word document open.

“Same,” Ten says, adjusting his glasses on his nose while Doyoung takes his own pair off to wipe the smudge from it.

“You only ever get one shot at a best man speech,” Doyoung sighs. “What if mine is shit?”

“You literally majored in creative writing, Doyoung,” Ten replies.

“This is _different_ ,” Doyoung hisses. Ten knows. They’re both nervous about fucking up.

Kun wanders into the dining room with a small slice of cake and sets it next to Ten’s right hand.

“How goes the revision?” Kun asks, slinging his arm over Ten’s shoulder.

“Slow,” Ten responds.

Doyoung has this little smile on his face, and Ten thinks that he’s gearing up for a cheeky remark, so he braces himself for it.

It doesn’t come.

“Kun, please be useful and think of a sciency metaphor for sex that is socially acceptable,” Doyoung says. Kun exhales, pretends to be annoyed, and leans in closer to Doyoung to see what he’s got in his draft.

It almost feels like they’ve never left the dorms— except that it’s clear that they have. Jobs and responsibilities and miles between all of them. Yuta and Doyoung who have managed to stay together despite meeting only once a month. Johnny and Taeyong and their massive house. Kun and Ten and the stretched out future before them that feels less like a chokehold and more like a newly mowed lawn, petrichor still suspended in the air.

 

-

“Destiny,” Ten mutters under his breath while he stands at the end of the aisle, watching Johnny make his way through it. On his left ear is his mother’s diamond earring catching the light, his mother’s hand in his. Taeyong follows with his own mother in tow. Ten can feel himself tearing up. He catches Kun’s eye just as Taeyong arrives, and Kun throws him a wink. Ten cannot wait to kiss him again.

Taeyong bawls through the entire ceremony, as was expected. Doyoung has three spare handkerchiefs in his pocket just for the occasion. Ten sees him hand one over as Johnny takes the microphone and begins his vows.

“I remember the first time I kissed you,” Johnny says, standing tall, voice as clear as the sky overhead. “Was also the first time I had ever considered what being in love felt like. I’d never known it, Taeyong. It wasn’t familiar to me at all until I kissed you and I knew.”

“Everyone who knew us told us that we were meant to be, and made us out like some fairytale romance,” Johnny continues. “And for a while, we resisted that. We didn’t want to be like the other obnoxious cheesy couples on campus, the ones that used to make us gag.”

Ten and Doyoung share a look and burst out laughing at the irony of Johnny’s statement. The entourage follows suit.

“But after a while, it became difficult to fight the inevitability of us,” John says. “We totally turned into the obnoxious, cheesy couple we swore we‘d never become.”

 “I’ve floundered a lot in my life, baby,” Johnny carries on. “But never with you. Loving you, and deciding to keep loving you, has been the one surest constant in my life since you caught me trying to break into my own room from the dorm balcony all those years ago.”

Ten thinks that Johnny’s vows objectively could use some work, and Doyoung’s mildly disgusted expression tells him he agrees, but because it’s so... _Johnny_ , it makes Taeyong weep harder, and that’s really all that matters. Johnny’s honesty has always been his best trait.

By the time Taeyong and Johnny finally kiss for the first time as newlyweds, Taeyong’s makeup has completely been wiped off, 3 out of the 4 handkerchiefs Doyoung had prepared are drenched. Ten has never, ever seen him this happy. When Johnny looks over at him, he is beaming.

 

-

The tinkling noise of knives being clinked against water goblets fades slowly as Ten stands up and pulls his speech out from his inner pocket. Johnny is seated a little ways off to his left. Ten clears his throat.

“Johnny,” he begins. “It’s one of the first things I ever learned about you: that you had the biggest heart out of all of us. The one with the most love to give.”

Ten tells himself to keep his voice steady.

“I’d always been the luckiest to be on the receiving end of it,” Ten says. “I used to worry all the time that that wouldn’t work in your favor, that you’d get burned, that you’d fall in love someone who couldn’t match it, and for a while, that did happen. Until Taeyong.”

Johnny, who hadn’t cried during his vows, begins to tear up now.

“You told me once that gravity didn’t exist when you were around him,” he continues. “I remember that I had pretended to throw up in my mouth, I’d been so averse to how disgustingly perfect you were for each other. But that’s also when I knew you were going to marry him.”

“I didn’t have anything to worry about after Taeyong became part of your life and a part of ours. I had seen you with your heart in your hands so many times before that when I felt none of that fear around Taeyong, I was sure that this was it. I think you were sure, too.”

Ten pauses to take a breath.

“Johnny, Taeyong, I’m the last person either of you would turn to in matters of the heart, and that was by my own design for a long time. But watching the two of you grow your partnership together has always given me the hope that one day, I too would find a love like yours.”

Kun is smiling at him.

Ten swallows. His chest is tight again, his hands shaking.

“A love that is open, and honest. A love that makes room for mistakes and missteps and approaches everything with kindness, always kindness.”

“You are my best friend, Johnny,” Ten says. “Congratulations on your big love— you found someone who could match it. Taeyong really gives you a run for your money.”

Johnny bounds over to him, the giant Great Dane that he is, and buries his face in Ten’s neck, shoulders trembling.

“You never,” Johnny sobs into Ten’s hair, these big heaving breaths. “Ever say shit like that to me and all of a sudden you’re mister tender love and care, what the fuck, I hate you, is this what being in love with Kun has done to you?”

Ten smiles and rubs Johnny’s back.

“Not in love yet,” Ten corrects.

“Oh, shut the fuck up, Ten,” Johnny says, pulling away, wiping snot with his bare hand.

When Ten takes his seat again, Kun takes his hand under the table and gives it a squeeze.

 

-

 

[“Have you _ever_  been in love, Tennie?” Johnny asks, his entire body sprawled open like a starfish on the circular carpet in the middle of Ten and Taeyong’s room.

Ten sends Kun a text telling him that he’s calling off their meetup so that he can spend time with Johnny.

“No.”

 

**[Qian 9:12 pm]**

Sure, no prob. What about tomorrow? We still on for Ikea?

 

**[Ten 9:12 pm]**

Duh

 

**[Ten 9:13 pm]**

I mean like, I did break your desk ;)

 

**[Qian 9:13 pm]**

Technically I broke it

 

**[Qian 9:13 pm]**

Hahaha

 

**[Qian 9:14 pm]**

Anyway, see you

 

**[Ten 9:15 pm]**

See you!!!

 

]

 

-

 

“Do you wanna spend the night?” Kun whispers in his ear just as they watch Sicheng, Taeil and Jaehyun start dancing the choreography to some song by some mandopop boy group they’d all been obsessed with back in senior year.

Ten brushes his nose to Kun’s temple.

“Yeah, I do.”

 

-

 

{“Johnny?” Kun says. It’s so late for him. Another sleepless night.

“Kun?”

There are cars honking in the background.

“Hey,” Kun says. “Sorry, did I catch you at a bad time?”

“Kun, it’s 4 am in Seoul, what’s going on?”

Johnny cuts right to the heart of it, Kun supposes.

“There’s something that I need to get off my chest, and I guess I just need your advice,” Kun says. He’s exhausted, and he has work in three hours, but it’s been months, and he’s losing his mind.

“What is it?” Johnny asks, his voice urgent.

“I think I’m in love with Ten,” Kun says. His voice is so small, he’s worried that Johnny can’t hear him over the noise on the street.

“Can you please say that again but louder?”

Kun inhales. Exhales.

“I’m in love with Ten.”

“Oh,” Johnny says. “Oh boy.”}

 

-

 

Ten traces his fingers over the length of Kun’s spine as he sleeps, pressing on the bumps of each vertebra on his way down. After going thrice, Kun is completely spent. Ten’s body aches in the best way. There are hickeys that mar the insides of his thighs, the curve of his ribs.

Ten wonders at how he can know someone, and not know them at the same time. Things that Kun used to hate that he now tolerates or loves, like elevators, texting in a moving vehicle, garlic, punctuality. Things that he had been aware of only tangentially that are loud and clear now.

Ten thinks about Johnny’s vows, about how sure he said he was after kissing Taeyong for the first time.

Ten wonders if it felt like this: peaceful, unafraid.

Ten figures, maybe it did. Maybe it does.

 

-

 

{Kun starts with the photos of the two of them. This is not a breakup but it still feels like something has splintered. He doesn’t delete any numbers, he doesn’t block Ten anywhere, and for a while, they communicate regularly until life does as life does, and there’s silence.

Kun has always been good at keeping his emotions in check, not very big on sentimentality himself, but when he sees the photo Taeyong had taken of them when he was on a Polaroid kick until he was broke from buying film, Kun pauses.

 

It shouldn’t matter. They weren’t together.

There aren’t any tears involved in the process of Kun extricating his affections for Ten from the rest of his body. It’s just little things. Seoul is Seoul, and it’s a place that’s devoid of Ten. It makes it so much easier.

It takes him three months, but at least it’s done.

He dates around. He meets Jin and he’s wonderful, lovely and soft, and Kun comes close to falling in love with him until Jin meets someone else, and they both agree that it’s for the best.

“You’re my best friend, Kun,” Jin says after he moves out.

Kun nods. Knows what that means.}

 

-

 

It’s freezing when Ten opens his eyes. In their haste, they’d forgotten to put the heating on, and he is wrapped around Kun, who is breathing steady and quiet, his back pressed to Ten’s chest. Ten moves to pull the comforter over the two of them.

Kun stirs.

“So, Qian, what now?” Ten asks, squinting at Kun, who turns over in bed. Ten lets go, sits up and crosses his legs on the bed, leaning on his elbows on Kun’s belly that tenses from the pressure, resting his chin in his cupped hands.

“You mean for today? Or the rest of our lives?”

Ten smacks his chest and resumes his position.

 I don’t know,” Ten says, his face heating up. “Today. Both.”

His blush is back on full display.

“Honestly, you’re too cocky for your own good,” Ten says.

“Doesn’t stop you from wanting to kiss me anyway,” Kun responds. “Tell me I’m wrong. Go on.”

Ten can’t. So he doesn’t.

“Let’s start with today,” Ten decides. “Then make the rest up as we go.”

Kun brings him in closer and Ten’s lips meet his in the most chaste kiss they’ve ever shared, but the fact that Kun holds him there for longer than expected betrays how loaded it is.

 

-

 

They take the train to see the rest of the city. Kun walks them through Field Museum and spends most of the time loudly correcting the scientific facts in the evolution exhibit.

(“We don’t actually know how phenotypically divergent we are from them!”)

Ten holds his hand and laughs.

A bunch of middle-aged teachers with their students give Kun a dirty look for talking so loudly. Ten raises his eyebrow at them, daring them to say anything about two Asian men holding hands in a museum. He shoots one of the white men his most saccharine smile before they leave.

While walking around Millennium Park, Kun has a proposal.

“Do you want me to change my flight to later so I can fly back with you?”

Ten stops walking. The answer on his tongue is ‘yes, but’ because he knows that would cost Kun time and money.

“Ten, I just need to know.”

Ten glances around at the display of those massive human faces on the installation. Neither of them wants to go back home yet, not when they’ve just begun to relearn what they mean to each other.

“I’d like that,” Ten says. He’s got another two weeks in the city. Kun has one. It’s a done deal, Kun rebooking his flight, and getting a new Airbnb for them to stay in for the remaining week.

Ten calls him a bougie capitalist and says that he can’t believe that he has to deal with both Johnny and Kun for being the way they are with finances, which Kun takes offense at, saying, “Listen, Johnny bought _Taeyong_ a Roomba; I would never get you a Roomba!”

(Taeyong had mistrusted it for the first month, thinking that only he would ever do as good a job at cleaning; but then he decides to stick some googly eyes and pipe cleaners on it, names it “Pip”, and turns it on while he deep cleans the house. Ten had stared at him and told him they needed to get a dog.)

 

-

 

{“Hey Johnny!” Kun says as Johnny’s face appears on his laptop. “Long time no see.”

“Hey Kun, been a while!” Johnny chirps. “Okay, so I just wanted to let you know that-“

Johnny is holding his hand up, a small pixelated stone shining white on camera resting on his ring finger.

“Taeyong beat you to it?” Kun laughs, incredulous. “I should have known he’d best you.”

Johnny is beaming, whiskers on full display.

“Yeah, he did, that fucker,” Johnny says. “God I love him. Anyway, I’m calling because I want you there in my entourage.”

Kun gulps. He knows the answer even before he asks.

“Ten your best man?” Kun says lightly. He hasn’t said his name in years (counting doesn’t count, he tells himself).

Johnny nods. “You’ll both be on my entourage if that’s okay with you?”

“Johnny, of course, I’m honored!”}

 

-

They’re walking toward the Miracle Mile, killing time before they meet the rest at the Signature Room for dinner, Johnny’s treat now that the festivities are over.  

“How will we do this? I live two hours away from you,” Ten asks out of the blue.

Kun looks thoughtful.

“Weekends? I’m not too worried, Tennie,” Kun says, clasping Ten’s hand in both of his.

“Why not?”

Ten has never been a legitimate relationship, has never been with someone who didn’t scare him off. He likes to think that he’s done a lot of growing up in their time apart.

“Cos even if you may have thought otherwise, hot, hot sex aside, we’ve actually always been pretty great at communicating,” Kun says.

“But what if I want less communicating and more hot, hot sex on weekdays?” Ten asks, only half-joking.

“Guess I’m driving out 2 hours, then.”

Ten full-on kisses him on the street, and Ten realizes what Johnny meant by gravity not existing.

 

-

 

[“Kun’s gonna be on the entourage?” Ten asks Johnny, shifting his phone to his other ear and holding it in place with his shoulder. He’s working on a sketch, his tablet open on the table in front of him.

“Is that gonna be a problem?” John responds, sounding genuinely concerned.

Ten, in turn, is genuinely confused as to why Johnny would ask that.

“Why would that be a problem? It’s cool! We just haven’t talked in forever,” Ten says.  “It’ll be nice to see him again.”

“Well, he is technically your ex...” Johnny trails off.

“Cos we used to fuck?” Ten asks.

“For why are you so callous about this, oh my god,” Johnny responds. “You mean to tell me you guys were never anything more than...whatever you were?”

“You can say it, you know, we were fuck buddies,” Ten laughs.

“I hate the term ‘fuck buddies’, please never say that again.”

“Friends with very, very great benefits, then,” Ten says.

“You really haven’t spoken in forever?” Johnny asks. “Why not?”

Ten pauses his hand over his tablet. Why not, indeed?

“He just sort of stopped replying. I stopped trying to reach out. It happens, Johnny,” Ten says.]

 

-

 

“The happy couple!” Yuta says, raising his arms up when he sees Ten and Kun enter the restaurant.

Johnny got them all a table next to the window. It’s amazing that they found seating to accommodate all of them considering how packed it is at this time. Ten is still getting used to the idea that he and Kun are what would conventionally be called a couple. He doesn’t allow it to bother him the way it would have when he was younger, when he was dumber, more immature.

“Aren’t we all happy couples at this table?” Doyoung asks.

“Yes dear, we all are,” Yuta laughs, pressing a kiss to Doyoung’s hair just as Kun pulls out a chair for Ten.

“Where’d you guys come from?” Taeyong asks.

“We mostly walked around the city,” Kun says, checking the menu out. “We had to make Big Plans.”

His grin is so wide. Johnny looks like he’s about to burst from curiosity but he’s trying to be a good friend and not pry so Ten decides to just give him a break.

“We’re both gonna be staying on a little longer—“

“YEESSS!!!!!” Johnny interjects. Ten snacks his arm.

“And, well,” Ten continues. “When we fly back—“

“We’ll see each other as often as humanly possible,” Kun adds. “But given both our jobs, we’re gonna probably only see each other on weekends most of the time.”

Doyoung hands them the basket of bread rolls.

“Sounds doable,” Yuta says. “I mean, it’s not a different country.”

“I honestly don’t know how you do it,” Ten says, his voice filled with awe. “How do you deal with... the...”

“FaceTime,” Doyoung says simply. “Also they make those WiFi operated dildos now; welcome to 3019, Ten. Get on our level.”

Yuta chokes on his water. Kun smacks his back.

 

-

 

{“I mean Doyoung and Yuta said that they’ll be booking a hotel room since Yuta’s management is willing to pay for it; you’re free to stay over with us, we’d love to have you,” Johnny says, sounding breathless.

“Why do you sound so winded?” Kun laughs as he drives back home.

“Tee’s been on my case about me not getting enough exercise, and I hate his yogalates, so I’m jogging,” Johnny says, huffing into his microphone.

“Why the fuck are you jogging at—“ Kun pauses to check their time difference. “Johnny it is 4:49 am where you are. What the fuck?”

“I had—“

“Too much coffee, you haven’t slept,” Kun guesses. “Jesus Christ, John.”

“Stop deflecting! So will you stay with us or not?” Johnny says, taking bigger breaths.

Kun doesn’t exactly know how to feel, but he knows it would probably mess him up to stay with Ten.

“Probably not, Johnny,” Kun says. He figures Johnny will get what he isn’t saying, but also knows that Johnny is gonna ask.

“You’re not over Ten yet?”

There he goes. Kun feels raw all of a sudden.

“I am! It’s just... been a while. Too much history,” Kun replies.}

 

-

The rain has subsided by the time they finish dinner, and the six of them agree to walk around to find a pub or somewhere they can go drink since Yuta’s on off-season and insists that he needs to feel like he’s “young and full of promise again”. It’s a general mood for them.

Taeyong takes Ten’s hand while they walk, and Ten lets go of Kun’s so that they can trail behind. Kun presses a soft kiss to his cheek and strides ahead to join Johnny, Doyoung and Yuta.

“Hey Tennie,” Taeyong says, and  Ten’s body warms despite how cold the fall evening is being.

“Hey, Tee,” Ten says, squeezing Taeyong’s hand. Besides Johnny, Ten’s the only other person whom Taeyong allows to call him that.

“Do you remember falafel?” Taeyong asks, and Ten groans, nearly pulling his hand away.

“Oh my god, I thought I’d forgotten.”

Ten is cringing.

 

-

 

[“So, are you?” Ten asks, body sprawled on Taeyong’s bed while Taeyong hunches over his desk, ruler and pencil in hand.

“I wouldn’t call it love yet,” Taeyong says. “Like, remember the falafel in How I Met Your Mother? When Robin says ‘falafel’ instead of I love you?”

“I have scrubbed every trace of that godforsaken series from my mind, Taeyong,” Ten deadpans.

“You’re such a snob, I swear,” Taeyong says. “But anyway, I falafel Johnny.”

“That makes no fucking sense,” Ten replies. “And yet I still get you. Strange.”]

 

-

Taeyong waits.

“Yeah, I falafel Kun,” Ten concedes. “Does that even add up? Like how does that add up in your head, Tee? It’s only been a couple of days, but I haven’t been afraid once since he kissed me again. Who am I?”

“A more mature version of who you’ve always been, Ten.”

“You’ve always been a loving person, Tennie, and  I think on some level, you always did love Kun,” Taeyong says. “It’s just now, your time and your truth match up. You weren’t ready then; neither of you were. It just so happens that this time is different.”

Ten is silent for a while.

“I kind of hate how I always hated ‘The Notebook’ and somehow I ended up sort of living it,” Ten’s nose crinkles. “I’m like, mildly nauseous just thinking about it, to be honest.”

“Kun never climbed a Ferris wheel to ask you out or built you a house, Ten,” Taeyong rolls his eyes.

“It just happened, Tennie,” Taeyong says. “The trajectory of your life and the trajectory of his just decided to give you guys a chance at a do-over.”

“Weren’t you always the one adamant about not going back to dating your exes?” Ten admonishes.

“Yeah, but Kun isn’t your ex, right?” Taeyong raises his eyebrow, his tone teasing.

“Touché, Tee,” Ten laughs, completely caught off guard. “Well-played.”

They round the corner to find that the rest of the group have found a little bar to drink in that miraculously doesn’t drown their voices out. Johnny leads them in, but Taeyong tugs on Ten’s hand.

“Tennie, tell me how you feel,” Taeyong searches his face. Ten had almost forgotten just how intense Taeyong could be. Next to Johnny, his old roommate really was the other person who knew him the best.

Ten takes a cleansing breath. Lets it out. Looks around the wet streets.

“I woke up this morning with him in my arms and had the gayest thought ever,” Ten huffs, bringing his hands to his mouth to blow hot breath on them. “I thought, ‘I want this every morning with you.’ I’ve never thought that about a person, Tee. But I want that with him.”

“Really sounds like the start of something new,” Taeyong waggles his eyebrows at Ten, who pulls away for real.

“The amount of shitty western pop culture references we’ve made in the last ten minutes is making my GERD act up,” Ten says.

“Take that back! HSM is NOT shitty!”

 

-

They’re waiting to board their flight. The early morning light filters in through O’Hare’s glass windows.

“You nervous?” Kun asks. An insecurity, Ten can tell. He’s worried about spooking Ten, worried about Ten getting cold feet. It should sting, but it’s a valid assessment.

It’s been two and a half weeks since Kun had called him over in Incheon; two and half weeks since he had told Ten he’d been in love with him before; two and a half weeks of them learning and relearning what ‘love’ means in their context now.

Love in Chicago was easy, their time suspended in a manner that it tends to feel like when you’re on vacation. Seoul means reality, jobs, traffic, physical separation, schedules.

Ten doesn’t mind.

“Nervous?” he says, smiling at his boyfriend. “Not at all, Qian. Not at all.”

  
  


 

**Author's Note:**

> I took the photos from the wedding venue from this site: http://greenhouseloft.com/?utm_source=local&utm_medium=organic&utm_campaign=gmb
> 
> I also uhhhhh cropped Hendery out of that last photo of them huhu sorry Hendery baby...
> 
> Find me at [my carrd, made by the lovely Erin.](https://t.co/Nm5AvDvn2U)


End file.
